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by made_of_lions_and_wolves333



Series: Quarantine Entertainment (Random Fandoms) [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, semi-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:21:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23939074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/made_of_lions_and_wolves333/pseuds/made_of_lions_and_wolves333
Summary: The stars reflect brilliantly in her eyes. He’s home.[ Sprusilla Drabble; season 5 compliant and on ]
Relationships: Drusilla/Spike (BtVS)
Series: Quarantine Entertainment (Random Fandoms) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1725514
Kudos: 6





	Home

Humans idolize gods all around the world. It’s the funniest thing. They love said Creator who gave them life itself. They are willing to respect their holy masters and partake in rituals that will maybe save them from sin and loneliness. And well, perhaps he’s no different in the end, even when he has a piece of sharpened wood pressing lightly into Dru’s ribcage, as a silent warning.

  
But she hardly blinks, and with one soft touch of her fingertips grazing his cheek, he admits this to himself. After everything that’s happened, he realizes that yes, he still loves this woman who is more than ordinary; a woman who gave him this life, who once crafted him in her own image long ago. He still loves his Black Goddess.

  
There is a bond between them, even now, tugging and pulling him towards her as she reached out, almost hopeful. 

  
And if Spike knows anything about Dru, which he _does_ — he knows how to pray with her, for her, and worship her blindly. No questions asked. 

  
When he closes his eyes, lax and unclenching, he’s sinking back into her — and, he’s surprised to find that there are no other outside memories left to haunt him now. He finally feels free to just let go and release. In this moment, there is no other. Nothing. No more Harmony. No more wandering about, not knowing what he’s _supposed_ to be. No more Slayer. There’s no more restraint or penance, or glimpses of her perfect sun-kissed hair he’s not allowed to touch. Dru somehow makes the constant buzzing from the fucking chip planted in his head, go _quiet_. He can embrace the night again without shame; and this circle of events is feeling terribly poetic.

  
Honestly, what was he _thinking_ then, really? Now it’s just him and Drusilla moving on sheets of silk under the radiant moon, with the stars reflecting brilliantly in her eyes.  


He’s home.


End file.
